Alma’s Blog - OUTSOURCED COMMUNICATIONS

Thank you

My little family are all asleep. I am sitting quietly by the candlelight listening to the sounds around me.

The bats are making their high pitched squeal that I have stopped hearing after all these years. I hear the barking of dogs, they must be bored as their voices are devoid of malice or anger. Frogs are singing their irritating yet strangely beautiful song.

There is a flutter and I watch one of the bats swoop clumsily down to drink from the swimming pool. It looks like a handkerchief flapping in the wind yet the air is still for once. Not a breath of wind.

The privilege of watching that bat so close to me that I could touch it makes me think of my early mornings and my afternoons. A troop of Vervet Monkeys grace my garden with their presence. The rampant guava tree needs serious trimming and the paw-paw trees are taking over but how can I cut them down when I have the joy of watching monkeys eating the fruit of these trees? Their human like antics are a joy to watch, a privilege to experience so close up.

My Eurythmics CD is playing softly in the background. Annie Lennox singing with her gruff voice is the perfect backdrop for this perfect evening. I have one of my cats curled up on my lap purring her melodic, peaceful purr. In the distance there is lightening flashing. Too far away to be a threat. I am nervous of thunder storms since my old lady got struck by lightning. My house is over 60 years old and she is in need of a facelift but I love her just the way she is.

The peace is overwhelming. I feel tears welling up in my eyes for no apparent reason. Who is responsible for such a beautiful world? The lights are twinkling around me. The evening sounds and movements are so tranquil. I do not believe in religion. Why do you have to go into a man built structure to talk to the Big Man? Isn’t he all around me as I sit here quietly enjoying his amazing creation?

A hadadah screeches in the distance. What on earth does it have to complain about this late at night? Oh yes. I spent last Saturday trying to find an organisation to help me when we found a hadadah with a broken neck thanks to a cruel human being with nothing better to do than destroy the beauty around him.

Yes, I am an agnostic but the magnitude of the beauty which is around me right now leaves no doubt that there is a higher being. Annie Lennox’s crooning, the frogs croaking, the dogs barking, the bats pinging…….Thank You. The tears that are flowing from my eyes are from pure gratitude and appreciation for what I sometimes take for granted. Wrapped up in the hustle and bustle and superficial “problems” of modern life, how seldom do I stop and appreciate what I actually have in abundance. Thank you whoever You are.

Tantalising Twitter

Yes, I am going to talk about Twitter. No, don’t run away! I know that you are scared of it but I promise that I’ll make this as painless as possible.

I had those exact thoughts that are currently going through your mind. Who is interested in what Paris Hilton or Justin whateverhisnameis had for breakfast? Do I really care if some bloke in Greenpoint is craving a MacDonald’s Cheese Burger right now? Of course not, but that is not what Twitter is about, folks. Twitter is full of fascinating people all willing to share their interests, knowledge and opinions with others in 140 characters or less.

Yes, you have Facebook and that already takes up a lot of your time. (bucketloads of time of you are a Farmville addict) Your profile is a great way to connect with your tjommies, family and old school buddies from all over the world and share photos of your offspring, pets and recent holidays. With Twitter one can search for, find and follow people with similar interests to you, people who live in the same town as you, people who you admire etc and guess what – they can never bore you! How can anyone be boring in 140 characters?

What they can be though is flippin funny! There are some people that I follow that have me in stitches. Because one has to be concise on Twitter, there is no waffling or posturing. Everyone is very friendly and polite but if you don’t like what someone is tweeting about – just unfollow them. Simple.

Some examples:
I recently started following @tamiya_t who I swear was tweeting whilst she was giving birth! Her tweets about life with a new born baby is bringing the whole experience back to me like it was yesterday. @SamWilson1 describes herself in her Bio as a “Feminist, anarchist and functional alcoholic. Renegade parent.” Besides the fact that she is the Editor-in-Chief of Women24, Parent24 and Food24, wouldn’t that bio make you want to hear what she has to say?

Watching TV has taken on a whole new dynamic now that I can enjoy other people’s comments whilst watching a programme or a rugby match. The real-time interaction with Twitter via my BlackBerry does annoy my family a tad though. Chicken Man does not understand that I can listen to him tell me about his day, watch TV, cook dinner and be on Twitter at the same time and I still know what he is rabbiting on about. The Alien understands. She has to be surgically removed from MXit at bedtime.

The banter between some tweeters who have been friends for a long time makes me feel like an eavesdropper at time. @FionaSnyckers (loving her books), @brodiegal (who volunteered at a hospital during the strike and found humour in bedpans and floor mops)@alambchop whose children are referred to as thing one and thing two.

I like to follow journalists, bloggers and DJ’s because not only do you get the news quicker, but having a sense of humour must be a prerequisite for those jobs: @matthewsavides who is fasting over Ramadan to experience what Muslims go through annually; @KaraboKgoleng from SAFM; @shesthegeek who reviews gadgets; @lihle_z who recently moved to New York (read her column in the Sunday Times); @lesterkk from eNews. Personalities like @F1sasha (Sasha Martinengo)and @GarethCliff are really genuine and interactive on Twitter(yes, I am surprised…and impressed) @clivesimpkins is so quick off the mark with his replies and comments. He is like the big daddy watching over the twitter kids! @Anatinus, @AkiAnastasiou, @innov8ive…the list goes on…

Finding and following Tweeps in Durban has been rewarding. The first person I followed when I joined Twitter was @OliviaSymcox who shares photos of the sun rising over the Durban ocean most mornings. What a way to start your day! @becauseI has a novel initiative to get herself a new car. See www.myr260car.co.za. Good luck with that, Briget!

Since being the 1000th person to follow @ECRBIGBreakfast I have discovered loads more people in Durban to follow (Durban is only the 5th most active province on Twitter in SA) Through ECR Big Breakfast I have learnt that: I need to reassess my garden and go for plastic plants instead; I am looking forward to following the progress of @juliekreusch’s vegetable garden; and that I am crap at riddles in the morning.

As I am following nearly 300 people I cannot mention them all but each person/company brings something to my life. Some I follow for their expertise and knowledge that they generously share on Twitter. Others keep me up to date with what is happening in the news and in my neighbourhood. Some are inspiring; some are just darn right funny.

So to all those Twitterphobes out there – go on and try it. Whether it be for business or pleasure, with a little bit of time and effort, I guarantee you that you will soon be hooked.

The Confab on Conferences

I have always enjoyed attending conferences. The ones I have attended have always been interesting, a good excuse for doing no work and generally result in a huge “all fall down” party afterwards.

When I worked at Vital Health Foods the highlight of the year was the annual conference. It was always held at an amazing location and the evening activities were great fun. Sales reps are generally party animals even if they sell health products by day. By night, all thoughts of liver damage and depleted vitamin levels are expelled. Of course this meant that the conference room was filled with red eyed, incoherent zombies the next day. A small price to pay for excellent company camaraderie?

I recall a conference during my tenure with Fedics Food Services. After lunch most of the delegates seemed distracted and no-one was really paying attention. The poor speaker probably wished that they had allowed alcohol to be served with the lunch. Delegates then started to turn pink with spots and many excused themselves to hurriedly head for the loos. Well, as it turned out a whole bunch of us had food poisoning. Can you picture the scene? 3 Kombi loads of catering personnel arriving at the local hospital suffering from food poisoning! The hospital staff were highly amused. We all thankfully managed to regain our strength and the ability to hold down alcoholic beverages in time for the evening activities. Oh, just to clarify – Fedics were NOT doing the catering that resulted in its management team fighting over Kombi windows en route to hospital.

My latest conference experience was very different as it was a public conference and I was one of the speakers. Sure, there are people who do training and speaking as a profession so may be exempt, but anyone else who has to talk to 350 people and say that they are not nervous is either lying or delusional! There were some really interesting and inspiring speakers prior to my slot but I found it quite difficult to concentrate. My clammy hands and thoughts of totally stuffing up my presentation made paying attention difficult. I survived the ordeal unscathed and must admit to actually enjoying the experience even if I felt like a “rabbit in the headlights” with the bright lights blinding my ability to see whether the audience had nodded off or not.

I do not envy conference organisors. A lot of PR students see this part of the profession as glamorous and exciting. I don’t think they realise the hard work that goes into a well run conference. So, well done and thank you to the organisers of the eThekwini Women Empowerment 2 day conference. Nelisa Kala, a DJ at East Coast Radio, did a fantastic job as programme director. The Durban ICC runs like a well oiled machine and the ThoughtFire team and eThekwini Business Support and Markets Unit management ensured that all the women who attended had an inspiring, enlightening and enjoyable experience.

The conference culminated with a gala banquet. I managed to persuade Chicken Man to accompany me. He is generally reluctant to don a tie and jacket but seen as he had some practise the week before thanks to the Durban July, he agreed to attend without too much arm twisting and bribery.

Yet again, the activities were well organised and varied. From dancers and singers to videos and guest speakers. I enjoyed listening to Devi Sankree-Govender talking about her journey to Carte Blanche. Her great sense of humour comes through in her Sunday Times column but it was pleasing to hear that her humour is genuine and her success and popularity is well deserved.

It is a shame that a lot of companies are cutting back on conferences. A conference does not have to be all glitz and glamour and big bucks. It just needs to be an opportunity for staff to catch up and to bond and be able to leave with a sense of pride and loyalty in their company.

The main requisite for a successful company conference is a huge booze budget and hangover cures washed down with Red Bulls with breakfast.

The Durban July – not for the faint hearted.

I felt very privileged to be invited to attend the Durban July at Greyville this past weekend. To a box, nogal! Having never been to the races I had no idea what to expect so here is a virgin race goers account of a day at the races…..

The theme of the day was “A blooming day at the races” so that kinda meant that sticking a flower in your hair and wearing a florally dress qualified you as being dressed appropriately. Okay, that is what I thought. How wrong was I! Yes, there were some very elegantly dressed folk and there were some eye catching outfits that were a tad over the top but still tasteful. Then there were some scary apparitions! How any mother/husband/boyfriend/friend could allow some of those ladies out of the house, never mind into the unsuspecting public, I have no idea. I cringed with embarrassment for some of them….

Anyway – no one in our box was dressed like a freak so I will not allow that to dampen my overview of the experience.

On to the horses. I like horses. What is not to like about a horse? I prefer them at a distance though. Let me just explain that I was thrown off a horse when I was a youngster. The horse I was riding on was spooked by a foreboding looking wheelbarrow that emerged from a side road. The key problem was that one of my brothers was also riding the horse with me at the time. I suffered not only the pain and indignity of landing on my arse but also having my youngest brother falling on top of me!

So, how did I relate to the horses at Greyville? Exceptionally well, thank you. I could view them from my perch high above the crowds and marvel as to their beauty and power (and the pretty colours worn by the jockeys).

I soon realised that, in order to get the most out of the day, I would have to go against every moral fibre I have and place a bet or two. Knowing nothing about horses or the dark world of gambling, I had to rely on everyone else’s opinions. The “race card” that I was handed looked more like a miniature Yellow Pages and was just as dull to read so I gave up on the idea of making any decisions based on that. I placed a few bob on a horse or two to “run a place” (I liked that idea – leaves the possibility of winning something wide open) but alas – all my expert advise led to naught and I lost all the boodle. No money flowing into my grubby paws from the helpful young tote dude.

What was flowing in abundance though was booze. When I left and had to pass through the marauding masses to walk the +-12 kilometres to where the car was parked, there was hardly a sober person in sight. Young and old, black and white, freaks and gentry – all totally trashed! I can understand though. The adrenaline rush when the horses pass the finishing line x 12 races + the amount of one’s life savings lost on donkeys ÷ by the number of frightening outfits = a darn good excuse to get wasted. Phew, I hope they all crawled home safely.

One downside was witnessing a huge brawl which I later learnt resulted in 2 people being stabbed. Hubby was delayed in picking up the Alien because he had to dodge the flying fists and cop vans in order to get out of the place. Yes, Chicken Man was there but he was not in the box with me. He had to slum it amongst the plebs as he was tasked with entertaining clients. Okay, so he was in the Sharks tent rubbing shoulders with rugby legends and being plied with food and Flasher girls. He too was a Durban July virgin and declared the whole experience an absolute pleasure even though there was not a Black Label in sight and he had to drink some other headache inducing beer.

So, thank you Lauren and Rob for facilitating my blooming great day at the races. I may have lost a few bucks but I have gained some wonderful memories spent with great friends. Now if I could just get some of those awful outfits out of my head…..

An open letter to the creators of the teenage female aliens.

Before anyone gets all huffy with me – let me say that I love and adore my daughter with all my heart. She is the most important part of my life and that is why I can say what I say without any guilt or fear of a call from Child Protection Services.

If you do not have a teenage daughter – this could alarm you. I feel obliged to warn you in advance. Sensitive readers should turn away now.

Teenage girls are scary, believe you me! However, it is not their fault. It is because they are not really human…

At some point (round about when boobs start to appear and zits mean that bank balances are drained by cleaning and beauty products) sweet, innocent young girls are abducted and taken away from us! It’s true! Can you imagine the horror? Of course, all hell generally breaks loose and parents the world over want their daughters back.

So the abductors kindly give us a substitute. There is a note attached to their ever expanding chests saying:

We thank you for the use of your darling child for ongoing research into the human species. We hope that this replacement will suffice in the mean time. Your real daughter will be returned to you after a process called Puberty

The aliens sure got a lot wrong with the programming of these replacements. Some of the standard default settings need urgent adjusting.

So, to the folk who create these replacements – here are a few tips for future models

To: Whomever it may concern
Address: Some or other far away and seriously peculiar planet somewhere.
Subject: Suggestions, defects and upgrade requirements for current teenage models.

Humans generally maintain a particular mood for periods longer than 5 minutes.

Parents do not suddenly become idiots and ignorant morons. They probably were from day 1 but unfortunately on our planet they still have to be listened to and obeyed by their offspring.

There is a clear difference between a bedroom and the rubbish bin.

By its very definition, a bedroom requires the use of a bed to sleep in. A bed is not just a depository for every item of clothing the replacement has been begrudgingly supplied with. (Your planet must be quite backward. Us humans nailed the use of cupboards vs the floor and beds many years ago)

You got the cleanliness part right. They will spend hours in the bath. So why do they choose to wear dirty inappropriate clothes? Yes, maybe placing clothes in a washing basket is a tall order but could you install something called self respect into your next generation upgrade? It would be great to not have to send them back to change 5 times before they look decent enough to leave the house.

Their hearing is clearly defective. Repeating the same command over and over again should not be necessary. Once you have fixed this manufacturing fault, please could you do a recall of existing models to rectify?

Is it a necessity that they be plugged into some form of electronic device 24/7? Surely you can make their battery life longer so that they can step away from cellphones, TVs and computers for longer periods?

There are pitch and volume issues as well. When speaking to parents they tend to mumble and slur and yet when there is a human male within 10 meters or a picture of some vampire- wannabe boys in a magazine, their voices become high pitched and inappropriately loud. I’ll let you off the hook regarding the strange words and language that they use as this seems to be a universal phenomenon. Male teenagers are just as difficult to understand.

Please change the default facial pose from pouting to smiling. This could alleviate a lot of aggravation.

You are welcome to take my model back for a few days if this will assist you in making these changes.

I look forward to your speedy response and getting my own daughter back in due course. I really do miss her and besides, all the wine I have to drink to calm my nerves at the end of the day is making me put on weight.

Yours Sincerely

Mother to a teenaged alien.

Now everyone is a soccer expert

The World Cup has been amazing for South Africa. The camaraderie between everyone is so inspiring.

Jumping into my car and going anywhere these days is much more fun when one sees all the flags flying from homes and car windows. I have the obligatory SA flag flying on one window and the German flag flying on the other with South Africa mirror socks attached to my side mirrors. It’s no wonder that all the tourists to our beautiful country are raving about the friendliness and “ubuntu” of South Africans.

There is something that has been fascinating me since the World Cup started though. Just how many people have suddenly become football experts overnight!

Sure, get behind a team a two and show your support by wearing their jerseys, colours, facepaint, flags, wigs…but does that support really transcend into knowledge? I have to stop myself from laughing when I hear people, who clearly never watched a soccer match before the WC, start sprouting their opinions and analysing the players, the teams and the referee.

Don’t get me wrong. I think it is marvellous that the so-called “beautiful game” suddenly has so many experts but what happened to all those people who never supported soccer in the past? Have they gone into hibernation? Left the country? Or are they too embarrassed to admit that watching 90 minutes of blokes running around a field kicking a ball backwards and forwards bores them to tears?

Okay – so I will admit it!

I have never watched the full 90 minutes of a soccer game. When I make a serious attempt to do so I still think that the game is over at 80 minutes (I watch rugby, you see) Those extra 10 minutes are just superfluous in my opinion.

What is with these blokes falling down all the time? Grimacing and clutching parts of their anatomy in complete agony when I swear no-one touched them. Acting skills must be a prerequisite for being a soccer star.

And off-sides? I haven’t a clue what the rules are but surely the players know? So why is the whistle constantly being blown for off-sides? Stay on your on-side, dudes!

It is a very loving game, I must admit. All that kissing and hugging that goes on….very sweet.

So, shoot me down in flames for being honest. I have made a momentous effort to watch the games where the result interests me but I still cannot profess to know what on earth is going on in the beautiful game. I love seeing photos on Facebook of friends attending the games. That is Ayoba enough for me.

I’ll stick to watching the highlights packages and the post match analysis on Super Sport which is always entertaining.

The drone of the vuvuzela’s + 8:30pm kick off time = #1 sleeping tablet.

Wrinklies Are Doing IT Too.

I had to smile when reading an article by Laura Spencer (see my Outsourced Communications page) where she writes about senior citizens getting active on blogs, Facebook etc. My 72 year old father Paul Chalupsky may have just learnt how to switch a computer on, but he has joined Facebook! I nearly fell off my chair when he made some reference to my blog the other day. I did not think he knew what a blog was let alone how to find my one.

Sure, he responds to about 1 in 20 e-mails that he receives (if you are lucky) because it takes him an hour to write a 1 line response but who cares? He is trying. He is getting involved. He has taken on the challenge.

My Dad is no stranger to challenges. He immigrated to Australia at the age of 65 as his wife wanted to be near her family. Moving to the other side of the world to a strange country at any age is a scary prospect. I can just imagine what it must have been like at 65, leaving ones comfort zone, all ones friends and of course, the majority of ones family.

Obviously when his wife Betty died, life became very lonely for him. During his visit to South Africa last December I encouraged him to sign up on an over 55’s dating site. Sure, I had to do all the writing and uploading of pictures but he was extremely enthusiastic about the idea. He had more faith in the idea of online dating than I did…

Well, to cut the possible Mills and Boon future novel short, he met the most wonderful lady. She has given him a renewed zest for life and will hopefully be the catalyst to inspire him where all his children and grandchildren have failed – by making him return to South Africa to enjoy his twilight years surrounded by friends, family and loved ones, both old and new.

So Dad, if you are reading this blog, I am proud of you. You have always been a hero to me but your embracing of modern technology has been the cherry on the top.

Do Good Things

I recently read a quote from a friend’s Facebook wall which ties in beautifully to what I wish to share with you today.
The quote reads:

Remember that people will judge you by your actions, not your intentions. You may have a heart of gold – but so does a hard-boiled egg.”

How true is that? What I find so inspiring is the number of people that one meets that are doing good things. Doing things that we often do not give a moments thought to, but which effects so many lives.

Top of mind is organisations like TAFTA (The Association for the Aged). Unless one investigates what they do or require their services when you have an aged relative – you don’t give them a second thought. I have needed their services and they ensured that a potentially traumatic and difficult experience turned into a smooth and pleasurable process (I know what you are thinking… No, it was not for me. How rude!)

I met with Jenny Thompson who works for a WESSA organisation called Stop the Spread. I was fascinated by the facts that she shared with me regarding alien invasive species. Global warming; water wise; threats to biodiversity; the future of our planet – all catch phrases that we hear so often and yet we are unknowingly promulgating the problem in our own back gardens.

I got a book from Jenny called “Invasive Alien Plants in KZN.” I immediately did a reccie around my garden and was astounded to find at least 5 invasive plants. I can hear you thinking – so what? It is just a few plants in your garden, who cares? How is that going to affect the world? But that is just the point. If everyone does their little bit and eradicates these nasties from their little patch of land, together we can ultimately make a difference. (Think how effective mass strike action is in SA!)

I had a giggle when I saw the Syringa tree had a Category 3 invasive status. Some of you may recall that my Syringa decided to get up close and personal with me and came knocking on my door during a storm last year. Although the tree was cut down to a stump – you cannot believe how quickly it started to grow again. Yikes, it is actually quite creepy seeing the speed in which it grows. No wonder they have the title “invaders”

If any of you wish to borrow this extremely well illustrated book from me and see what is lurking in your garden – you are more than welcome to.

Let’s not end up with egg on our faces because we have ignored our hearts of gold and failed to turn good intentions into real action.

When things go Pear Shaped

Ever noticed how things seem to go pear-shaped at the same time? The pool has sprung a leak, the wooden fence at the back of house looks like it is about to fall over (methinks it’s something to do with the neighbour attaching a chicken coop to it but that is a whole other story) and to top it all off, someone must have put their grubby hands through our gate and stolen the battery (brand new one I might add) out of the gate motor! Bastards!

To exacerbate my bad mood, I have called 2 companies and I am still waiting for someone to pitch up. What’s with that? Everyone moans that business is so bad and yet when you offer them some business (no matter how begrudgingly) they could not be bothered.

Oh, least I forget, Chicken Man (my hubby) informed me last night that the loo that he and the Alien (my teenage daughter) use seems to have also sprung a leak. He did try and appease me somewhat by asking me if the putty I used to try and fix the pool would work on the loo. If so – he would show me where the leak is so that I can fix it. What a gentleman! Who said chivalry was dead? I suppose I am solely to blame for that though. I have a tendency to just “get on with it” when there is a need for handyman skills around the house so Chicken Man doesn’t have to know the difference between a screwdriver and a hammer. Remind me to thank those early Women’s Libbers, will you.

What my dear husband has also graciously shared with me this week is his cold. Let me rephrase that. He had flu/pneumonia/bronchitis/all of the former. I have a cold. Hubby got to take a week off work (no, the company he works for did not go into instant liquidation) but when you ARE the company, the work, she must still be done.
Did I mention that I have also just started my monthly female curse?

Okay, enough already. Tirade over. You know what? I am starting to feel a bit better. Has my ranting to you helped me get over my seriously bad mood ever so slightly? I truly do think so. I knew that writing nonsense every now and again would reap some reward some day. Thank you!

Now – if one of you could please send someone to fix the gate motor, rid me of my cold, fix the fence, pool and loo – I promise they will be welcomed with open arms and a broad smile. I’ll even share the really good bottle of Sauvignon Blanc I have in the fridge….

INTRODUCING THE AMA GLUG-GLUG WINE CLUB

I know you all want to know exactly what this “exclusive” club, to which I have belonged to for over 8 years, is all about. I have received e-mails and sms messages begging to hear more. So here goes.

Drumroll please…

It is tricky to introduce such a diverse group of characters. As we all have school going children, I thought I would compare each member to a person within a school. Rather apt as a school is a small community within a community, like the wine club, and school is also an experience that we will never forget no matter how old we get. Even if the wine club ever disbanded – the memories (and 1,762 932 photos) will stay with all of us forever.

In no particular order and relating to their character within wine club only:

Les – The Headmistress
Always takes on the leadership role. Not scared to kick our arses to get things done to her exacting standards. Don’t mess with Les, or else!

Jax – the Class Mother and Head of the Parents Advisory Committee.
She may have 2 sons but Jax would mother a stray cockroach. If anyone has a boo-boo or needs to be cheered up – Mamma Jax is always willing and able.

Jules – the Class Clown
You can hear her infectious laugher down every corridor. She sees the funny side of any situation so you just can’t help yourself but start laughing with her about almost anything.

Carol – the School Rebel
Carol is on the look-out for any opportunity to bend or break the rules. Why? Because it’s fun, that’s why! She does not need a reason, does she?

Vix – the Student Councillor
The pragmatic, sensible voice of reason. A spade is a spade, so do not even think of calling it a shovel. She is always a willing and empathetic listener but don’t expect her to sugar-coat the truth.

Lynette – The PR Officer
Always immaculately turned out, she flits from one social gathering to the next, ensuring that everyone she meets feels like a super-star after 5 minutes in her company

Me – the Teachers Pet
No – it ain’t because I am so incredibly likeable – it’s just because I do what I am told! I’m too scared of getting into trouble with this dynamic group of party animals!

Now let me re-iterate. These descriptions are based on behaviour within wine club only. (Sorry, writing a disclaimer clause sounds like hard work, so forget it) Between us we have 13 children ranging from 2 years old to 19 years old with me being the exception, having only 1 child. There is one laat- lammetjie who still has to turn 40, otherwise we have all reached that milestone and celebrated each others 40th birthdays together.

We are all married and should all be eternally grateful that our long suffering husbands just shake their heads now when wine club comes along each month. I personally think that they are jealous but, hey, no-one is stopping them from forming some kind of club or other – as long as they are available to babysit on wine club nights.

Of late, we are obligated to get dressed up based on some or other theme which is decided by drawing seriously silly options out of a hat at the beginning of the year. I am sure that some of those theme options are revenge for the inevitable hangover and lack of productivity that some of us suffer the day after wine club.

A different member hosts the wine club meeting each month and they are responsible for cooking and presenting the food and decorating their home in accordance with the pre-determined, ludicrous theme. Each person has to dress according to the theme and bring along a bottle of wine.

Oh, I almost forgot… the wine.

At the first meeting I attended, there was a John Platter wine guide, a notebook with comments on all the wines that had been tasted and a special wine opener that did the rounds with each meeting. Not quite sure why, but now the smoothness, bouquet, aroma, vintage and even colour of the wine is unimportant! We sommer just drink!!

Clearly it is no longer the quality of the wine that keeps us coming back each month – it is the quality of the friendship.

I say “CHEERS!” and may you all find a circle of friends, no matter how miscellaneous or random, and enjoy the pleasure of laughing, sharing and “whining” together.